Religion

A man is about as big as the things that make him angry – Winston Churchill

Noemina is a graduate of the University of Hertfordshire, UK, where she majored in health care. She is working in her field as of 2012. The journal excerpt she sent to us reflects her week-long experience at the epicentre of the battle with the new coronavirus in the intensive care unit, where serious cases are admitted.

The troubled centuries that followed the Great Schism of 1054 and the corresponding climate inside the Christian church gradually gave way to profound shifts in the thinking and spirituality of Europeans.

This coronavirus crisis has, for me, some perplexing parallels with a well-known incident narrated in the Gospel of Matthew (14:22-33). The disciples are confined in a little boat in the middle of a terrible storm, almost as we are confined at home today by the emergency laws of our countries.

In Milan, in 313, Constantine participated in his sister’s wedding to Licinius, where he also signed the Edict of Milan. This decree, which officially recognised and legalised Christianity, marked the symbolic end of Diocletian’s era of persecution while defining Constantin’s religious policies.

My body felt like it was on fire, as if someone had pierced my skin with thousands of burning needles, and I could barely breathe. Fear had crept into my life some time ago, following me like a shadow that drained my soul and stole my precious moments of peace.

He married a pregnant woman and accepted the responsibility of raising and educating a Son who was, because of His divine power, his Father. This was a mission full of risks and challenges for a humble carpenter from Nazareth, who has come to attract the attention and respect of generations.

The phrase “Believe and do not investigate” has over the centuries become a sharp weapon deliberately wielded by critics of Christianity to wound and discredit the supporters of this religion, accusing them of narrow-mindedness and bigotry.

Suppose I leave the window open then leave home. A stack of banknotes can be seen on the table through the open window. An individual walking down the street notices the opportunity, thinks for a while, but decides to move on. Why would a man who has the opportunity to steal decide not to?

An urban legend claims that the Church vehemently opposed the dissection of corpses through medieval decrees of prohibition or limitation of this practice.

It’s hard to read the description of Jesus’ life in the Gospels and not wonder what the many supernatural healings and other miracles performed by Him mean for us today.

On the night when heaven descended among mortals, it was not the high priests or scholars who were the first to see God, but some lowly shepherds.

What image comes to mind when you hear the word success? A blue-suited CEO? Internet billionaire Mark Zuckerberg? Perhaps Mother Teresa or Nelson Mandela? But if you’re like me, you probably didn’t think of a person living an unglamorous, day-to-day, ordinary life.

I talked to Pastor Nicu Butoi about the role that religion could play in treating depression and hopelessness, at the end of a series of evangelistic presentations he gave to a full-house before the pandemic.

Founded on the separation of political and religious authority and shaped by the presumed liberating power of reason, contemporary society is driven by faith in progress as a substitute for faith in God. At the heart of this secularized world, a pressing question emerges: what role does the Church still play today?